


To Know

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Lazer Team (2015)
Genre: AU where Adam doesn't die, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:17:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: DETIA removed Adam's soul mark when he was an infant, to avoid it being a distraction. He thought he'd never know - until Woody tells him the Helmet can give him the data on whose name he used to have.
It's too late now. Adam doesn't want to know - or at least, that's what he keeps telling himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Adam doesn't die at the end of the movie :')

The first thing Adam noticed upon being discharged from the hospital and allowed to return to the rigid, disciplinarian comforts of the DETIA headquarters, was that at some point in the few weeks that’d passed since saving the world, Herman and Hagan had gotten together.

Many others might not have realised at all. Neither man was openly affectionate, and they continued their persistent routine of calling each other horrible names, and bickering constantly, and callously flinging around accusations of ruining each other’s lives. But Adam - Adam had the eyes of a hawk, the perception of a snake, and the knowledge of several hundred hours of watching reality television as part of an ongoing study on the human condition.

He knew love when he saw it, by God!

So he immediately picked up on the soft fondness underneath every barked statement of, “You washed up old man!” “You lazy wineskin!” He saw how their eyes darted to one another, exchanging minute glances every few minutes during debriefings or training sessions. He noticed the brief touch to Herman’s arm when Hagan passed him in the hallway, or how Herman pressed their knees together as they sat beside one another on a bench in the mess hall.

He had to admit, he was surprised.

He hadn’t expected this from the two of _them_ , not from what he knew of their history, everything DETIA had dug up on their past relationships. This seemed to come out of, pardon the language, _fucking nowhere_.

He was standing in the mess hall one day, squinting furiously in their direction as he struggled to work out what might have led to this, when he caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral (noticed immediately, of course, as he had the reflexes of a mosquito.)

Woody moved up next to him. He gave a small smile, and Adam allowed himself to return it. They had saved the world, after all.

“They’re soulmates,” Woody explained, following his gaze. Herman appeared to have just stabbed Hagan in the leg with a fork. It was unclear if this was an accident. Adam could hear - as he had the ears of a fox - the laughter under Hagan’s indignant cries.

“Soulmates,” he repeated - Woody nodded.

“They noticed during the medical check-up after we killed the Worg. It’s surprising, given they used to be so close, that they never saw each other’s marks or mentioned whose names they had. But Herman’s was here,” he reached around himself and traced a line across his lower back, “And Hagan’s was here,” - his upper thigh - “So not very visible spots.”

Adam nodded, slowly. It all made far more sense now.

He sometimes forgot about the names that littered everyone’s bodies - names of the person they were destined to love, whose heart was bound to theirs. He hadn’t thought about his in a long time.

“I’m fairly certain there’s a regulation against this somewhere,” he muttered. Part of him was joking, teasing. Apparently that was something he did now. It was funny how narrowly surviving a slow and painful death could activate your sense of humour.

“Actually, no,” Woody replied - his eyes were vacantly fixed ahead of himself, scanning left and right minutely in a way that Adam had come to realise meant he was reading data on the inside of his helmet. “Protocol 34.B states that no superior officer may engage in inappropriate conduct with someone ranked below them, but-”

“I know,” Adam cut in. “I’ve got the manual memorised.”

Woody’s mouth snapped shut. They were silent a moment, watching the two men. Then Woody cleared his throat, almost nervously.

“It’s funny, the soul bound,” he began. “There’s no scientific basis for it, no explanation, nothing genetic or biological that indicates how or why it might exist. Even the Helmet simply acknowledges it.”

Adam nodded, giving a vague sort of grunt.

“Do you think you’ll ever find your soulmate?” Wood continued, tentatively.

Adam paused, glancing down at him. He’d never paid Woody much attention before, other than noting that he was quieter than the rest of them, and that though he took to his piece of the suit better than the others had, his lack of physical prowess made him just as useless at times.

Now that he didn’t hate the other man’s guts purely on principle, he found himself reluctantly _curious_. He’d never been close to anyone aside from Emory, and certainly few people his own age, or from such a vastly different walk of life.

“No, never,” he replied.

Woody blinked up at him.

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s possible. It’s almost always someone you’ll encounter in your life at some point. In fact, the statistics show that 92% of the time-”

“Not possible for me,” Adam interrupted grimly. He shifted, reaching up to rub his upper arm, where there was a shiny patch of scar tissue - mostly faded by now, but testament to some largish injury. “DETIA removed my soul mark when I was an infant.”

“ _Removed it_ ,” Woody repeated, horrified, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

“Yes,” Adam said, rather nonchalantly. “It would have only been a distraction.”

“That’s…” Woody trailed off, seeming lost for words. But Adam only shrugged - he’d never known anything else, after all.

“Necessary,” he said, “For the good of the planet. I am the champion of Earth - _was_ the champion of Earth,” he corrected, pulling a face.

Woody still looked rather disturbed.

“Still,” he said. “It’s… it’s such an important thing, to so many people - they just took that away from you?”

“They did what they had to,” Adam informed him. “For the greater good.”

“Utilitarianism: the doctrine that actions are right if they are useful or for the benefit of the majority,” Woody announced, then shook himself; his voice had been mechanical, almost automatic. “Sorry. Still hard to control that sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” Adam said, and surprised even himself with his reassuring smile. “You’re still learning.”

Woody gave a small smile back.

“You know,” he began, “I, um… the helmet lets me see people’s data. Their health, age, even things they’ve eaten recently… it also tells me their soul name. Your mark might be gone, but I can still see what it used to say.”

Adam froze.

He hadn’t even thought about that being a possibility. Rather, he’d long resigned himself to never knowing - had never _wanted_ to know. Now that the choice was suddenly in front of him, he didn’t know what to do. The possibilities that opened were terrifying, unfamiliar - his stomach was tight suddenly, nervousness buzzing in his gut.

“It’s been so long,” he replied, and hesitated. “By this point, I may as well just not know. But you can have a look, if you like.”

He wasn’t sure why he added that. But Woody nodded, and Adam saw him zone out again, focusing on the helmet’s data - only to startle, his eyes widening. For a moment, he looked completely shocked.

“Oh,” he gasped - Adam frowned.

“What?” he demanded.

“Nothing, nothing!” Woody replied, a little too quickly. “Just…”

“What is it?”

Woody froze, and Adam narrowed his eyes at him. There was a funny look on the other man’s face that he couldn’t place, wasn’t sure about.

“Just an interesting name,” Woody said finally, weakly.

Adam could tell he was lying. It was something else. But he didn’t push, still needing time to process this entire situation.

“Well,” he replied. “I don’t need to know.”

“Are you sure?” There was still a funny note in Woody’s voice - but Adam shook himself, and nodded firmly.

“Yes,” he said. “We still don’t need any more distractions. I have to stay on task and focused - and you should too, if you haven’t found yours yet.”

Woody looked away, fidgeting awkwardly.

“Don’t know that I ever will,” he murmured. “It’s a common name, and I don’t go around much.”

“Well, that’s good,” Adam declared. “Nothing to distract us.”

He thumped Woody on the arm with great gusto, nearly knocking him over - Woody stumbled, but looked up with a bashful little smile. Adam felt quite fond of him suddenly, maybe because the rest of Lazer Team were so wrapped up in their own relationships that it was nice to see one person still out of all that.

But it was still worming at the back of his head, that _possibility_ \- he shook it off, and went to do some CrossFit.

 

* * *

  
That night, Adam lay in bed, staring up at the familiar ceiling of the room he’d had since he was a child, rather distressed.

This place was home to him - he had his action figures, his movie posters. Growing up here, as disciplined as life had been, Emory had tried to make sure there was still a little normalcy between all the training. Despite that, he’d been focused on his mission all his life - determined nothing would sway him from his path.

Now, with that weight taken off his shoulders, with his role _changed_ -

He’d never thought about relationships before. And he shouldn’t now, he chided himself, he had to _train_ these men, teach them, and that was perhaps even harder than doing it himself.

But he couldn’t help it. He’d been alone for so long, and had never _missed_ anything, never thought he’d need to seek some extra fulfilment - but seeing Hagan and Herman and the trust that had been renewed between them, that simple affection… and Zach and Mindy, young and bright and so full of energy and the buzzing excitement of youthful love… it made something ache in his chest, something appallingly _empty_.

Something that he did not like at all!

 

* * *

 

Things deteriorated after that, rather rapidly. He just couldn’t _help_ it - every time he saw Woody, it popped into his head, that niggling little reminder that one simple, little name was right within his reach.

_You could_ know.

_Come on, you don’t need to._

_Okay, but what if he just tells you the first letter?_

_No! You_ don’t need to know - _it’s just a distraction, they removed it for a reason!_

_Yes, but… do you really want to pass up this chance?_

It consumed him. He started thinking about possible names, imagining faceless figures lurking somewhere within his reach - people he didn’t know yet, but could be so important to him. Soft hair, pretty smiles, gentle touches - or rugged strong arms and deep voices and hearty laughs. It could be anything, _anyone_ \- when before it had been no one. Now, it seemed like everything was a possibility.

 

* * *

 

“Woody!” Adam bellowed.

Woody jumped when Adam barged into his room, nearly falling off his bed where he’d been sitting, doing something on a datapad. He had his helmet off, though the base that sat around his neck was still on. It was strange to see him without it. Normally in the training grounds he always had it on. He had very green eyes, Adam noted absently - he’d cut his hair at some point, or maybe the scientists insisted on doing it for him. He looked cleaner now, neater.

“Adam!” he stammered. “Can… can I help you with something?”

“About my soul mark,” Adam began.

He thought Woody blushed at that. He wasn’t quite sure - it was hard to tell, under the clinical, bluish lights of the room.

“I was just wondering,” he continued, pushing on. “Is it a traditionally male or female name? I’m just curious, that’s all. What could have been.”

The words came out quickly - he tried to make them sound brash, like he didn’t care. Scared of some sort of judgment, he wasn’t sure what.

“Oh,” Woody replied, but didn’t seem suspicious. “It’s a male name.”

Adam nodded, slowly, processing this.

“Intriguing,” he replied absently. He was already filtering out about half of his imaginings, beginning to narrow down the dreamlike figure he was slowly constructing in his mind.

“Adam!” Woody called after him, as he turned towards the door, but he was already striding out of the room.

His heart was pounding, and he didn’t know why. _Don’t go getting silly ideas_ , he told himself - _don’t do this. You’ve already gone too far, knowing this much._

But the thrill that he got, just from _knowing_ \- from how his imaginations were now far more specific… he’d never felt like that before, and for some reason he was reluctant to let go of it as he wandered back off to his room to mull over this new information.

A few days later, Adam was beating a punching bag in the gym furiously, when he heard a footstep behind him. He whipped around automatically, fists raised, half expecting ninjas to leap out of nowhere the way they always had in some of his previous training exercises - but it was just Woody who’d entered. At Adam’s sudden move he squeaked and threw his arms up, shielding himself even though he was on the other side of the room.

“Sorry!” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Adam lowered his fists, shoulders relaxing.

“It’s fine,” he replied, and crossed the room to grab his towel. As he reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow, he glanced in the mirror, just in time to notice Woody’s eyes scan over him - he glanced away quickly, and Adam turned to him.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh.” Woody seemed distracted, and shook himself, jerking his gaze back up to Adam’s eyes. “I came to train actually, but if you’re here, I won’t.”

“We can train together,” Adam suggested, raising an eyebrow - but Woody shook his head immediately.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You’re you and I’m… me,” he replied, sounding uncharacteristically flustered - but after a moment he shook himself and continued, “You would almost certainly outmatch me in any training exercises we did, as our levels of experience differ so drastically. It would be unproductive for you and humiliating for me. I can train another day - I just wanted to practice some more, as I’ve calculated that putting in extra hours outside of our scheduled training sessions would improve my physical capabilities by at the very least 15%.”

“What if I train you?” Maybe he offered way too fast, but he shook it off - “It’s what I’m here for, after all. That’s my job now.”

Woody bit his lip, but nodded. He had his helmet on, which was good, Adam didn’t want to knock him out by accident. Before long he had him in the ring with boxing gloves and pads, barking out orders, correcting his footwork, and yelling every two seconds to “Keep your hands up!”

Woody was uncoordinated and weak. He flailed his arms about like wet noodles and so much as a gentle tap (by Adam’s standards, anyway) nearly knocked him over. But the sense of pride that swelled in Adam’s chest when he finally managed to get him to punch from the chin was unparallelled.

“Good work,” he said, tapping his glove to Woody’s as they finished up.

Woody nodded. He was breathing heavily, the visor of his helmet fogged up a little, but he couldn’t seem to stop grinning. As he lowered the visor and moved to drink some water, Adam couldn’t help but regard him curiously - the choppy ends of his hair where he’d cut off that terrible mullet at some point, how his damp shirt was clinging to his thin frame - how he moved everywhere in a slightly uncoordinated fashion, like a baby deer that was only just taking its first few struggling steps.

He’d heard about what Woody was like before. He was completely different now - had the endless knowledge of the Helmet, understood things that he couldn’t previously. It must be a big change, Adam thought, rather uncomfortably - but Woody was trying hard, that was what mattered. And no matter what intellectual changes had occurred, there remained something sweet and shy and innocent to everything else he said.

Adam didn’t hang out with the others much. He got on well with Hagan, because he seemed the most mature, took the job the most seriously - but Herman didn’t like him, and Zach always seemed busy and distracted with other things. It left Woody as the only one he really probably wanted to spend time with.

“So my soul name,” he blurted out.

Woody nearly choked on his water, spluttering uncontrollably. Adam pounded him heartily on the back and nearly knocked him flat.

“What about it?” Woody asked, once he’d recovered himself.

“Is it unique or common?” Adam couldn’t help asking.

“Um… hard to tell? It was ranked the 2,251st most popular name in America in 2015,” he recited.

The numbers meant little to Adam.

“Would I be able to tell the person’s cultural background from this name?” he asked instead.

“Oh,” Woody replied. “No, I mean… it’s a pretty standard Western name, if that’s what you mean.”

“Okay,” Adam said. “That narrows it down somewhat.”

“You know, I could just tell you,” Woody pointed out - Adam shifted, his uncertainty showing even if he didn’t want it to, and Woody tilted his head like a curious bird. “Do you not want to know?”

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted, feeling suddenly rather vulnerable. He realised, abruptly, that he had no idea what he’d even do if he encountered his soulmate. He had very little knowledge about that shit. He’d seen trashy reality relationships on the television, but that wasn’t how it _worked,_ not in the real world. And he was good at a lot of things - fighting, strength, strategy - but not _this_.

“You’ve never sought out yours,” he replied, switching the subject. “You could, with the Helmet - it’d narrow things down, let you find them.”

Woody looked down. He was the one who looked vulnerable, now.

“Don’t think they’d very much want me,” he replied, voice so soft Adam could barely hear it.

"You saved the world.”

“But before that - you saw how I was. And besides, even now…” he shrugged. “Not exactly Channing Tatum, am I?” And then, after an awkward pause, “Not exactly _you_.”

For all his skills in perception, Adam couldn’t quite tell if that was meant to be a compliment. There was a lingering, strained silence. As usual, Adam decided that punching things was the best way to break the awkwardness, and tossed Woody’s gloves at him again.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get back to it.”

 

* * *

 

Later, he watched the four of them together, noting how they seemed to have gotten closer. Herman and Hagan were together, of course - but even with the others. How Hagan reached out and touched Woody’s shoulder to ask him something, smiled at him when he replied. Zach was enthusiastically telling him something, and Woody was nodding along, seeming rather bemused, but happy to be around other people.

Adam felt almost left out. He shook it out, kicking himself - he wasn’t part of the suit, wasn’t one of them. It almost seemed like the soul bond, the connection they had. He wondered if Zach had Mindy’s name on him somewhere. He wondered who had Woody’s.

Reaching up, he found himself absently rubbing his scar, suddenly too conscious of its place on his arm where a name ought to be.

Woody looked up. He saw Adam lurking in the doorway, and his eyes widened - but he smiled, giving a small wave. Adam’s heart lurched. He didn’t know why he felt flustered suddenly - he shouldn’t. He barely cared about these people.

That wasn’t true. It wasn’t, and he knew it - he smiled awkwardly back, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands, and left in a hurry.

 

* * *

 

 

_What harm would it do to know?_

_What if they’re someone you can never find, someone on the other side of the world - you’ll always think about it._

_That doesn’t happen often._

_They might be looking for you, too. Is it fair to them not to even try?_

_I don’t believe in this nonsense, I never have._

But he just couldn’t stop _thinking_ about it.

 

* * *

 

And so it continued. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop asking more. After all, questions couldn’t hurt, right?

“Is it a long or a short name?”

“Are there famous celebrities with this name?”

“Does it start with a vowel?”

“Exactly _how_ unusual is it?”

“How many syllables?”

“Is it one of those names that’s also a noun or an adjective?”

“It… has a noun in it?” Woody replied, in response to that one.

“Hm,” Adam grunted. He thought for a moment. “Is there a popular character with this name?”

Woody blinked at him, before giving a little laugh.

“Yes.”

“What’s the character from?”

“If I tell you it’ll give it away!” Woody protested, indignantly. “It’s a kid’s movie, that’s all I’ll say.”

“Tarzan?” Adam asked - absurdly, it was the first thing that popped into his head. He vaguely remembered being shown it at some point as a child, and being impressed by the cartoon character’s agility and 2D abs.

“What? No, of course not!” Woody was laughing now, his squeaky, croaky laugh. It was nice to see him smiling so much. Adam wasn’t sure when he’d started noticing that. He realised he was smiling too - wide, uncontrollable - and wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.

“Look,” Woody said finally, “Just let me tell you, if you’re that curious about it?”

There was an almost shy note in his voice. They’d been taking a water break while training, and Woody laid a hand on his shoulder now. Adam went very still, not sure what to do or say. His chest felt tight, and his heart was pounding, and he had no idea what was meant to happen now.

“I…”

His voice faltered. For once he was lost for words. Woody let his hand fall away, seeming almost embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” he said, hurriedly. “No pressure.”

He power walked across the gym like he was trying to escape, and started hitting a floor-to-ceiling speed ball, or attempting to. Once it started swinging, he couldn’t manage to hit it again, and after a moment it came back and smacked him in the face. He fell back with a grunt, and Adam couldn’t help but laugh at him. Once he might’ve been annoyed by the incompetence - now something about how Woody flailed around was just endearing.

“You alright?” he asked, crossing over to him.

“All good!” Woody assured him. He started to scramble to his feet, but his shirt was riding up, and Adam caught a sudden glimpse of black script wrapping around his side, low on his torso, just above his hip.

He froze. Something about the sight sent a little shock through him.

“Your soul name…”

Woody seemed to realise what’d happened. He tugged his grey training shirt down, cheeks burning. Adam hadn’t managed to read the name, but he’d noticed it was something short.

“Yep, it’s there,” Woody replied. His voice was high and nervous and awkward, and he swallowed hard. “Not too obvious - that’s always better. I saw a bloke what had it on his forehead, once. That’d be a pain, going around with ‘Tracy’ written there. Least it wasn’t some weird name like… like _Lettuce_ , or something.”

“That’s not a name,” Adam scoffed.

“Yes it is,” Woody insisted, “I’ve met people with it.”

“Can I see yours?” Adam asked, not to be deterred.

Woody froze. He looked almost scared, and something was clearly going on here. Adam wasn’t blind.

“I…”

“Only if you want,” Adam said.

He’d moved in close to steady Woody as he got up. Now Woody reached up and clutched his arms as though to balance himself. He bit his lip, and wouldn’t meet Adam’s eyes - but gave a minute nod. He didn’t move, and it left Adam to push up his shirt. They were standing so close that he had to peer around to get a look.

And there it was, wrapped around Woody’s side, just under his ribs - the scrawling letters.

_Adam._

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. He froze. For a moment he had no idea what to think, his mind completely blank, struggling to process what was in front of him. Woody had gone very still - but he could feel how tense the other man was in his arms. When Woody let out a little,shaky breath, it seemed to wake him.

Adam reached out and touched the name. Woody’s skin was very warm, almost burning. He jumped when Adam’s fingers came to rest against his side.

“I…” his voice cracked horribly, but he pushed on. “There’re a lot of people named Adam out there. I knew _three_ in high school - Adam Logan on the football team. I was an idiot to approach him one time. Laughed in my bloody face. Turns out the girl on his ankle is some sort of Instagram model, which I can’t exactly compete with. And then there was Adam Chua in my English class… he also wasn’t very impressed with me. He tried to be nice, but when his mark wasn’t the same as mine, I could tell how relieved he was, even if he tried to let me down gently. Then there was another Adam in the grade above me… I was too scared to ever approach him. Always wondered if maybe he was the one and just didn’t want it to be me, so he never said anything.”

He laughed. Adam was listening, but didn’t reply, absently tracing over each letter, Woody trembling lightly under his touch.

“Then again, it could be an Adam on the other side of the world,” Woody continued, a bit hysterically. “It’s such a popular name. _Such_ a popular name!”

Adam was barely paying attention by this point, but he still caught the note in Woody’s voice - he was lying. He had seen Adam’s soul name and he was _lying_ , Adam could tell. He’d been trained to read people.

“What does my soul mark say?” he heard himself ask. The words came out smoothly, voice low and firm.

Woody’s mouth snapped shut.

“Wh-what?” he asked.

“My name,” Adam continued, and suddenly he felt quite certain about what he was doing. “What does my soul mark say?”

Woody looked very vulnerable suddenly. But Adam stared down into his eyes, still holding his arms, and finally it left his mouth in a rush of breath, barely more than a whisper.

“Woodrow.”

It was the truth, Adam could tell. He felt like he couldn’t breathe - like he was floating, suddenly, seeing all this happen around him. He shook himself.

“You,” he said, and Woody looked away.

“It might be another-”

“Come on,” Adam insisted, and squeezed his arms. Warmth was flooding back into him now. He realised he was smiling. “You’re not stupid. You’ve got Adam and I’ve got…”

_Woody_.

He could imagine it now, the script curling around his arm, what had been taken away from him as little more than a baby, that he’d barely thought about since. But fate had brought them back together, the way it always did for soulmates.

He didn’t know what to do. But he could see how nervous and tentatively Woody was looking up at him now, with those huge green eyes, and-

Adam could _read_ people-

He knew how the other man felt about him, could see it in his eyes. And suddenly, he thought he knew how he felt, too.

Adam had never kissed anyone before. He was pretty sure Woody never had, either. There was something clumsy in how he reached out, fumbling to press the button on the side of Wooden’s helmet, letting the visor slide away. Something rough and awkward in how he gripped Woody’s arms and leaned in and pressed their lips together.

Woody made a funny, muffled noise. His hands rested tentatively on Adam’s hips, but he kissed back after a moment - uncertainly, still trying to figure this out.

Adam had never thought at the start of all this, that this was where four idiots accidentally putting on the suit would lead them. Never thought he’d care about soulmates, barely even thought it was real.

But as they pressed together, as Woody gained a little confidence and Adam ran his hands down his arms and then rested them on his narrow hips - something felt at peace, like everything had fallen into place and whatever had been missing before was now satisfied.

When they pulled apart, there was something uncertain and fragile in it, Woody looking just as out of his depth as him - but they smiled at each other, and after a moment Woody leaned in and rested his head against Adam’s chest. Somehow there was something far more intimate just in that little motion, and Adam, though he was rarely that tactile, found he didn’t mind at all - just hugged him closer, and thought, maybe he hadn’t trained for this, but Woody hadn’t either. They’d figure it out together.

**Author's Note:**

> [Join me writing Lazer Team fics each week! <3](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149931537439/lazer-team-weekly-prompt-challenge)


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